The Word
by bookworm33
Summary: It's after the Last Battle, and Hermione Granger has no one to turn to, and nowhere to go. Snape offers her an apprenticeship, and she accepts. A strange friendship develops between them, but will it turn into something more?
1. A beginning

_Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling. I do not own anything even slightly related to the _

_copyrights of Harry Potter. I am not making any money from this._

_To everyone who read this a couple of days ago: I kind of freaked out because I forgot _

_the disclaimer, and was afraid of getting a lawsuit slapped on me, so I took everything _

_down. Then, I discovered that I'd accidentally deleted Chapter 1 from my computer, so _

_there are some slight altercations to the first chapter. I hope I made it better though, _

'_cause it felt really awkward. Also, please review, and don't judge me too harshly 'cause _

_it's my first fanfic._

A Beginning

Hermione waited outside of Great Hall, sitting on one of the small, uncomfortable

wooden chairs. What was taking so long? The Transfiguration exam had ended five

minutes ago, and the Potion's exam had a very small group, so what was taking so long?

She thought back to how she had come to be sitting outside Great Hall. After the Last

Battle, she had asked Headmistress McGonagall if she could possibly come back to

Hogwarts and complete her 7th year. She had readily agreed, saying it was the least she

could do since Hermione had helped defeat Voldemort.

"Granger, Hermione…" floated through her agitated mind. She jumped up, and opened

the doors of Great Hall. It looked much the same as it had during her O.W.L.s. From the

same small, individual tables, to the large teacher's desk with a myriad of potion's

ingredients on it. It was almost identical. Almost. Instead of the plump, cheerful, ancient

witch sitting at the desk, there sat one of the greatest Potions Masters in the world.

Professor Snape.

He suddenly looked up at her. She froze, like a mouse caught in a snake's hypnotic gaze.

She finally broke the gaze, sitting down at the nearest table. What had been in his eyes?

She had almost thought it was guilt, but what on earth did he have to be guilty about?

This was Snape, the master of indifference, and what on earth did he have to be guilty

about regarding the loathsome know-it-all? She shook her head, as if trying to shake such

ridiculous thoughts out of her bushy head.

She took a deep breath, and looked up, folding her hands in front of her, in her perfect

"I'm here and ready to learn" look. Fortunately, he had turned his attention back to the

desk of ingredients before him. She looked around to see if everyone was settled down

yet.

She noticed a few people giving Snape uneasy looks. She rolled her eyes. The Ministry

had spent 3 weeks confirming Snape's innocence. Everyone knew that he'd killed

Dumbledore on his orders, to help save Harry, Malfoy, and Snape himself. More people

had benefited from Dumbledore's death than if he'd lived, because Snape had completely

confirmed his loyalty to Voldemort, even though he was still spying for the Order.

She shuddered to think about the different interrogation methods that the Ministry must

of used. They had not dealt kindly with any Death Eaters during, or after the War, and

Snape_ was_ Dumbledore's killer.

She turned her gaze back to the desk. There he was again, staring at her with that almost-

guilty look. This time, he broke it first. He stood up and started pacing in front of the

desk.

"I am genuinely astonished that so many of you sit her before me today." He began in his

soft, velvety voice. "Not only because of your lack of abilities, but that Longbottom did

not manage to kill at least half of you with an exploding cauldron."

Hermione snorted quietly at his exaggeration. There were only six students in the Great

Hall. The cream of the crop Potion's students. Snape was much harsher on his grading

methods than Slughorn ever had been, causing many grumbles among the students from

Slughorn's old class.

Harry had been disappointed too, but he'd quickly gotten over it. He was too busy

planning his wedding to Ginny, too be held that summer so Hermione could attend

without missing classes. Hermione loved visiting the Burrow, with Mrs. Weasley running

around with cake samples, and Ginny shoving wedding invitations in Harry's face,

demanding that he choose between off white, or cream white.

However, there was a certain emptiness to the Burrow as well, a kind of hole that Ron

had once filled. Everyone felt it, when Mrs. Weasley started to set his place at the kitchen

table, and then had to rush from the room sobbing. He had died throwing himself in front

of Harry, to save him from a Killing Curse.

Hermione almost broke down right there during Snape's endless speech of what idiots

they were. Ron had proposed to her only 2 days before his death, and she'd never given

him an answer. She'd just said, "I'll get back to you when this nightmare is over." She

took a deep, shuddering breath, and tuned back into Snape, who was just wrapping up.

"The potion you will be brewing today is the Draught of Living Death." Everyone gasped

at this news. Snape smirked at the astonishment on their faces. "Yes, I'm glad you all

understand how difficult this is going to be." He turned to walk back to his desk.

The Draught of Living Death was a potion that sent it's victims into such a deep sleep,

that many times, people mistook them for dead. Many tragic poems spoke of loving

mothers burying their supposedly dead children. It also happened to be the hardest potion

that the Ministry would allow Snape to set them as an exam.

Hermione sighed. She expected no less from a teacher like Snape. She stood up, and

began to get ready to make the potion.


	2. I just don't understand

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters who appear in the Harry Potter books. _

I just don't understand

Snape strode back to his desk, with a bit of a spring in his step, and filled with an

immense satisfaction, he added.

"Oh, and by the way, some of the ingredients on my desk will not necessarily be used in

the potion. Begin." He turned over a large hourglass. He'd have to turn it over twice more

before he could leave. He sat down in his chair, leaned back, and smirked at the look on

their faces. One or two of them even had their mouths hanging open.

But unfortunately, Miss Granger was not among them. She was too busy doing what the

rest of the morons were supposed to be doing, making sure that she didn't kill anybody

with a botched potion. Checking the cauldron for defects, and other safety procedures.

He had yet to see her flabbergasted by anything he said. He also had yet to see her

stumped by any assignment he gave her. The latter had become a

personal goal which had to be reached in this exam, since it was the last time she would

ever be in a classroom of his. He had made sure he would give her the exam, when

Headmistress McGonagall asked him which classes he would like to examine.

He started looking at the written exams for Potions. He had made sure that he graded

those too. He wanted to see what everyone had done earlier that day, to see if Miss

Granger had possibly missed something. He could use that as ammunition during the 4

long hours against the know-it-all. He heard someone approaching his desk. He knew it

was her. It had to be her. Everyone else was having delayed reactions, starting to finally

carry out the safety procedures.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" he drawled out in his best I'm-much-to-busy-to-bother-with-you

manner without looking up.

"I'm just collecting my potion ingredients sir." She replied in a very prim voice.

"Do not disturb me while you're doing it." He said lazily.

He looked up and saw her face of extreme concentration. She was certainly going to need

concentration to pick out the right ingredients. For example, he had 3 different variations

of poison ivy, all that looked almost exactly alike, but if you put the wrong one in the

potion, it would create a deadly acid. There were no labels on any of the ingredients. He

had made every ingredient that went into the potion confusing by putting a few things by

it that looked almost exactly like it. He had also thrown in a few ingredients that weren't

even remotely related to the potion, just to see what she'd do. _Wait_, he thought, _I'm doing _

_this to see what __**they'd do. **__This isn't just about her. I want to see how the whole class _

_handles it. _He almost shook his head like the know-it-all had, but caught himself in time.

She started picking up ingredients and examining them carefully and slowly picked out

the correct specimen of diced caterpillars. Snape tutted loudly. She glared at him, and he

was pleased. She knew that he was just trying to get her to doubt herself. She started

focusing on the various spines, trying to pick out the maticore's.

He decided to ignore her, and started looking over her written exam. The whole paper

was covered in her small, neat handwriting. He read her answers carefully, hoping for

just one small mistake. They both focused on their tasks for the next quarter of a hour.

Then a few other students joined her, their faces falling even more when they saw the

catastrophe that this exam was going to be.

Snape continued working on Hermione's paper. Curse her! She had gotten them all

correct to the letter. Snape noticed that she was almost done picking out ingredients, and

looked over what she had picked out. Damn that girl! She had gotten them all right so far.

She picked out her last bottle, and it was only Snape's training as a spy that kept him

from cheering with delight. She had picked powdered minotaur bones, not powdered

unicorn horn! The know-it-all in question looked up, and he just barely managed to hide

his glee.

"Are you quite finished Miss Granger?" he asked.

"I believe I am Professor." She replied with a slight smile.

Again, it was only his training as a spy that kept his delight hidden.

"Then I believe you know where your desk is Miss Granger. Or like the rest of the idiots

here, do you need directions to even do that one simple thing?" he said, hoping that she

would return to her seat and not think about her ingredients anymore. The hint of a blush

was on her cheeks as she started to walk back to her table. Snape wished the other

dunderheads weren't there so he could let out a sigh of satisfaction. It seemed that he

would finally win.

But unfortunately for Snape, Hermione _had _noticed his amusement before he hid it. She

looked down to her ingredients, and realized her mistake. She was halfway to her desk

when she spun on her heel abruptly, looking down at the mildly surprised Potion

Master's face. She put down her ingredients on the floor so they wouldn't get mixed up

with any of the others on the desk, and placed the bottle of powdered minotaur bones on

the surface with a bang. Everyone looked up from their selection, surprised at the sudden

sound.

"Forgive me Professor," She said in a too sweet voice. "But it seems that I got the wrong

ingredient." She picked up the bottle of powdered unicorn horn, inspected it warily, not

wanting to repeat her error. She bent down, scooped up her potion ingredients, and strode

with her head high back to her desk in a manner that Snape would've been proud of.

For some reason, Snape _was _rather proud of her actions. It spoke of her ability to hold her

own in the harsh, cruel place that the world was. And for some reason, Snape was glad

that he'd taught her that pose. With other students, he would've been enraged, thinking

they were mocking him or worse yet, attempting to copy him. The harder he tried to

understand, the more confused he got. This time, he couldn't help himself and shook his

head. He'd have to think about this later. He sighed almost imperceptibly through his

nose, turning his attention back to the exam papers.

nose, turning his attention back to the exam papers.


	3. If I fell

_Disclaimer: I do not own the literary masterpiece Harry Potter. I do not own any of the minor, or major characters in the Harry Potter series. _

_To my reviewers: Tsurara Black, thank you so much. I almost gave up writing this after the disclaimer scare, because it just seemed like to much trouble to re-write Chapter 1 again. But your review inspired me to write again. HRInuyashaFan16, thanks, now I know that when I do write, I need to write fast. Sorry my chapters are so short by the way. Tambrathegreat, I will keep continuing. Please keep reviewing!_

If I fell

Hermione silently fumed as she began her potion. It wasn't that she was mad that he'd

made the exam so difficult. It was the fact that Snape would've _enjoyed _seeing her fail.

She wasn't surprised. Snape had made clear his dislike of her from day one. In the

beginning, she bet that he just didn't like her because of her so called "know-it-all"

complex. But the hatred had definitely deepened when she became friends with Harry.

Guilty by association she guessed.

She just didn't understand why it bugged her so much that Snape wanted her to fail. She

told herself that it was because he was her teacher, and he was supposed to be indifferent

when it came to attitudes towards students. She failed to remember that all her other

teachers had a particular partiality towards her as a student.

ABOUT 3 ½ HOURS LATER

Hermione was into the final stage of the potion. She had to let the potion simmer for 20

minutes, checking on it every 2 minutes to make sure the temperature was constant. She

had just checked, so she sat back in her chair for a moment. She scanned the room to see

how everyone else was doing. Ernie Macmillan had almost caused an explosion from

picking out the wrong beetles eyes earlier. He had realized that there was going to be an

explosion seconds before it happened, so he had cast a quick shield charm over the top of

the cauldron to protect everyone. Hermione had admired Ernie's quick thinking, but

Snape had just _evanesco-ed_ the potion and sent Ernie to his office to await his wrath.

The small timer went off. Hermione quickly checked the potion with a thermometer, and

slightly adjusted the heat. She took the last vial of liquid, and took a deep breath. This

was the most delicate stage of the potion, the adding of the final ingredient. A venom

from a Wheeler snake, found only one island in the world was added into the potion

when the simmering process was complete. The venom had to be added before the potion

stopped bubbling, which only allowed thirty seconds at the most. There was only

supposed to be three drops added to the potion for two reasons: 1. the rarity of the venom

caused it to be extremely expensive, and 2. the potency of the venom was so strong, that

if you added even one drop more, you would send your victim into immediate cardiac

arrest.

She cast_ muffilato _on herself to make sure she wasn't distracted by any sudden noises.

She opened the vial, took the cauldron off the fire, and carefully counted out the three

drops, allowing for eight seconds between each drop. The potion instantly turned a pale

blue, and Hermione sighed with relief. She had to let the potion cool now before she

could bottle it. She straightened, stretching in her chair, and then slumped forward onto

the desk. It felt so good to relax, knowing that you'd done everything right.

Meanwhile, Snape had just been berating another unfortunate for an exploded potion. He

sighed, pressing his fingers to his temples sending the idiot to his office. He looked up,

and saw the know-it-all slumped over her table. He strode quickly to her table, half-

hoping that she had fallen asleep so he could scold her. He stopped a few feet behind her.

She appeared to have finished the potion, the cooling stage just taking place.

"Miss Granger." He began in his softest, most dangerous voice, no louder than a whisper.

She didn't move. Snape frowned. Normally, students jumped at the sound of his voice,

knowing immediately that they were doomed. He cleared his throat and tried again.

"Miss Granger." He said a little louder. Still no movement. This was getting annoying.

He reached down and touched her shoulder. She immediately jumped, knocking her arm

against a vial. The vial fell off the desk, and she lunged to catch it, knocking her head on

caught her.

He checked to see if she was conscious. She wasn't. He suddenly noticed everyone

staring at the strange scene. He laid Hermione on the ground gently on the cold stone

floor, took out his wand and conjured a stretcher. He looked around at the few students

and declared "We will have to continue this exam another day, since you've obviously

lost the little concentration you had left." Once again, the morons were having delayed

reactions, while Snape levitated Hermione onto the stretcher, and levitated the stretcher

out of the classroom door. He turned carefully back to the classroom. "Could someone

please inform Mr. McMillan that he will have to talk to Mr. Filch about that detention

instead. I'm sure he'll be able to come up with something for Mr. McMillan to do." He

turned back to the hallway, and started slowly walking to the hospital wing.


	4. I've just seen a face

Hermione tried opening her eyes blearily. She could feel that she was moving somehow. Was she on the Hogwarts Express? She tried sitting up to get a better bearing on her surroundings, but immediately felt too dizzy, and gave a small groan. The movement abruptly stopped. Snape's face swam into view, and she would've jumped up if she wasn't feeling so awful.

"Miss Granger," said Snape in what was a abysmal attempt at a soothing tone. He had had too little practice at soothing, and too much at threatening. "Miss Granger, you've experienced a slight concussion. I'm taking you to the Hospital Wing, and I'd like you to remain as still as possible during the time it takes me to get there. Do you understand?" Hermione blearily nodded her head in assent, and drifted back thankfully into unconsciousness. Snape resumed his brisk pace.

Snape strode gracefully into the Hospital Wing, all the while levitating the stretcher carrying Hermione. Madam Pomfrey was changing the sheets on one of the beds, and turned around at the sound of footsteps.

"And what misfortune has happened upon Miss Granger?" she said when she saw Hermione on the stretcher. "Nothing too serious I hope?"

"She may have lost the few brain cells she possessed, but she'll survive." Snape replied.

Madam Pomfrey looked at him with inquiry in her eyes. "She was lunging to catch a vial that she'd foolishly knocked over, completely forgot her to use her wand, and knocked her head on the side of her desk. " Snape hurriedly explained. He'd dealt with Madam Pomfrey more than a few times, and knew that when it came to the health of her students, you didn't want to make her wait.

Madam Pomfrey bent down, and spoke in soothing tone to Hermione, (who appeared to have regained consciousness again) explaining what had happened. "I've already informed her of her stupidity, Madam Pomfrey." Snape snapped at her. Madam Pomfrey gave him an evil glare. "I mean, shouldn't we focus on helping Miss Granger, instead of explaining to her what she already knows?" Snape hastily backtracked. Madam Pomfrey smiled to herself inwardly at the most feared teacher of Hogwarts, quaking before her almighty wrath.

"If you really want to help, you'll levitate Miss Granger onto that bed." Madam Pomfrey declared smartly. Snape hastily complied, lowering the stretcher onto the bed. Madam Pomfrey stood on the other side of the bed, and started to pull the stretcher from under Hermione. She frowned up at Snape when he didn't move to assist her. "Well, if you want her to fall to the floor again, don't move." She said angrily. Snape put one hand quickly on either of Hermione's sides, to make sure she didn't roll off of the bed when the stretcher was pulled out.

The transfer was completed successfully, with Hermione staring up surprised at Snape. "Professor?" she asked amazedly. Snape rolled his eyes.

"Miss Granger, as I have already explained to you, you broke a vial of liquid, and while lunging for said vial, you gave yourself a concussion. How is it that everyone says you are 'the cleverest witch of the age' and you don't even remember to use your wand?" he sneered. Hermione blushed a very light pink. "Incidentally," he added as an afterthought. "What did you break?" Hermione wrinkled her brow for a few moments, and then a look of horror was revealed on her face.

"Oh no." she said in dismay. Snape looked at her sharply.

"What do you mean Miss Granger?" he asked harshly. She answered so softly, that Snape had to lean in to hear the whisper of horror that escaped her.

"I broke the Wheeler snake venom" she said with tears in her eyes. Hermione could see the glimmer of anger in Snape's eyes, but his face was still very controlled.

"Miss Granger," he sighed. "There will be no use of my shouting at you. You obviously realize the gravity of what you have done, and my making a racket would not punish you severely enough. When you are released from the Hospital Wing, you will come see me in my office, and we will then discuss what your penalty shall be. Good night." He stood up, and strode from the Hospital Wing.

**The next day , 4:00 in the afternoon**

Hermione knocked firmly on the door to Snape's office. "Come in." said Snape's silky voice. Hermione opened the door. Snape sat at his desk, looking over his examination papers. He looked up at her. "Sit, Miss Granger." Hermione nervously sat on the edge of her chair, while Snape stood up, and started pacing. "I've been puzzling since yesterday evening on what exactly to do with you Miss Granger. Do you have any suggestions?" he shot at her. She was surprised at the question. It seemed to her that an intelligent and notoriously malicious man like Snape couldn't seem to think up a punishment for her.

"I honestly can't say that I have any sir."

Snape snorted, and turned back to his pacing. They remained this way for about 10 minutes, Snape pacing, and Hermione waiting for her imminent doom.

"Follow me." He said suddenly. He strode from the office to a door, but not to the door leading to the Potions classroom, or a hallway. Hermione realized instantly that it must lead to his private chambers. She hesitated in the doorway a moment, not sure if she really should go in. Snape stopped and looked around. "Come on you foolish girl, I'm not going to hurt you. I told you to follow me, and I meant it, so do it!" She stopped hesitating, and jogged quickly after Snape.

She had entered a small sitting room. It had 2 armchairs drawn up in front of a fireplace, a small desk in a corner, and a large bookshelf against one wall. Unsurprisingly enough, the color theme was green and silver. Hermione's fingers itched to stop and grab a few books off of the bookshelf, but Snape was already leaving the room. Hermione stepped into the next room, and gasped.

It was Snape's private potions lab. It was not a very large room, since it was a private lab after all, but there was room for 2 or 3 people to work there if need be. The one major difference from the potion's classroom was that the potion's equipment was much more sophisticated. Hermione realized the rarity of her situation immediately. Snape valued his privacy beyond any amount of money, and he was one of the greatest Potion's Masters in Europe, so to be allowed into his private Potions lab, this was simply one of the greatest honors Snape had probably ever bestowed in his life. And on the maddening know-it-all!

Snape strode over to a few of the cauldrons, checking on their progress, then he turned back to the Hermione. She had managed to close her mouth a few moments before he

turned. "Professor, why did you bring me here?" she asked. Snape looked at her with a hint of surprise.

"Because Miss Granger, you never managed to complete your N.E.W.T. for Potions. The rest of the class completed the exam this morning, before you were released. Thus, you must brew the Draught of Living Death again." He replied as if it were the obvious.

"Oh." Hermione said, realizing that he made perfect sense. But she was still curious. "But why are you having me take the exam in here? Why not just use the Potion's classroom?"

"For the simple fact that the Potions classroom's equipment is very inferior, and I'd like to see what you could do with proper equipment." He replied again as if it were obvious.

"Now," he said turning back to the cauldrons. "If you are finished with your endless questions for the time being, begin your potion."


	5. Glad all over

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters who appear in the books._

_To my reviewers: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I've been feeling a bit down lately, and your reviews make my day! RagamuffinSundrop: I personally have been always very irritated when people make out Snape to be this real sweetie at heart, so thanks for liking how I make my characters canon. Fantasy Fire: Sorry to keep you hanging! I have a real love for cliffhangers, even though I hate it when authors do that to me! I'm very hypocritical. Enjoy! P.S. I don't mind constructive criticism if anyone has any about my writing or anything. It's good to get feedback._

Hermione wiped the sweat of her brow with her sleeve. Once again, she was nearing the final stages of the potion. There were 5 cauldrons going at once in the small lab, and the heat was getting to her. She shrugged off her outer robes, revealing her Muggle clothes underneath. She was wearing a purple shirt with a monster on it, a cowering teenager wearing a letter jacket in front of it.

Snape worked on the other side of the room, attending to 4 cauldrons at once. Hermione was in the last hour of the potion, the simmering process, and set the timer. She leaned back against the table, and watched Snape work. The man had a well-earned right to be called a Potions Master. Every move he made was efficient and effective. You could also see that he had true passion for what he did. Most people when making potions treated it as if it were simply a recipe for making a stew. They didn't appreciate potions for what it really was. Snape had informed them on their very first lesson that very few people existed who understood potions. When Hermione had heard that speech, she had promised herself that she would be one of those few.

The timer went off, and Hermione checked the potion. The cycle repeated several times, Hermione checking the temperature, setting the timer, and floating away in her private thoughts. All the while, Snape continued working on his potions, not even glancing Hermione's way.

About halfway through the simmering process, Snape had apparently finished working on his potions, and stepped behind Hermione to hover over her shoulder. Hermione stiffened when she could feel him gently breathing on her neck. She didn't think he was doing it on purpose, but you could never tell with Snape. She decided to try to ignore him. She failed immediately, for the sensation of someone breathing on your neck is almost impossible to ignore. The temperature was staying even, so she turned the timer to 2 minutes. She thought about turning around, but Snape was so close behind her, that she would bump into him if she tried it. She also considered merely asking him to move, but it might seem rather rude as he was merely trying to observe the potions process. So she did a strange sort of step to the side, almost knocking over the chair on which her robes lay.

She lunged to catch the chair before it fell, but Snape was quicker than her. He pulled out his wand, and flicked it, righting the chair. Hermione almost fell again, but Snape managed to catch her. He set Hermione on her feet, and released her quickly. "Once again Miss Granger, you forgot to simply use your wand. Do you wish to visit the Hospital Wing again?" Hermione almost felt like she wanted to blush, but instead, she started laughing. Snape was surprised, but a slight quirk of the corner of his mouth just set Hermione off again. She straightened, wiping the tears from her eyes, small giggles still escaping her at odd intervals. "Do you feel you are in control Miss Granger?"

"Yes (giggle) Professor." Hermione replied, breathing heavily.

"Good, because your timer is about to go off." Snape said, pointing. Hermione turned around, and continued brewing the potion. Snape resumed position behind her shoulder, but a bit farther back so Hermione could turn around.

It was time to add the Wheeler snake venom. The process went exactly as it had before, without the addition of concussions. Hermione left the potion to cool, and sat down on the chair with her robes on it. Snape took the seat across from her. They sat in silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable.

"Just out of idle curiosity," Snape said suddenly. "What does that drawing on your shirt represent?" She looked down at her shirt. When the monster was looked at more closely, it seemed to be comprised of people. The monster was a good 3 times taller than the boy, so it was quite a few people.

"American muggle societies are not unlike wizarding societies in the aspect that both are obsessed with sports." She began. "In secondary schools, the children who are in athletics are treated like gods. And just like ancient gods, they treat their worshippers like they're not worthy to lick their shoes. The ones who are especially ridiculed are the ones they label as 'geeks.' They are usually the intelligent ones, or they are just different from what is considered 'normal'. The picture depicts the day when the 'geeks' decide that they no longer wish to be treated so cruelly." She finished with a rather evil grin.

"What a terribly long explanation. I would've been satisfied with 'It's from an old horror film.' " Snape said.

"Well, it's the explanation my friend Maureen gave me. She's from America, and she thought I might like the shirt. She's a bit of a civil rights activist." Hermione explained. "I didn't know you knew about films." She commented.

"Well, I'm not completely ignorant of Muggle society." Snape replied.

"What films have you seen?" Hermione asked, interested.

"It was so long ago I can't remember. My mother insisted I understand some of my father's culture, so she dragged me to one once." Snape fell silent, brooding in his memories.

Hermione stood up, and started bottling the potion. "May I ask you a question Professor?" she asked as she washed her hands after finishing.

"Even if I said no would it stop you?" He sighed. Hermione grinned. She was starting to like Snape's sense of humor. It had used to be a way to ridicule her, but she guessed it was just how you decided to interpret it.

"Probably not. Have you decided what my punishment is yet? I know it isn't just about the cost, which by the way, I'd be more than happy to pay." She sat back down at the table again.

"Miss Granger, have you decided on a career path yet?" Snape asked. Hermione looked surprised. It wasn't like Snape to just change the subject like that.

"No, unfortunately not. I've been thinking about maybe going into medicine, but I'm not sure that it's for me."

Snape looked pensive for a moment, as if debating with himself. Hermione watched him curiously.

"What I'm about to say could be interpreted as the worst torture you could ever experience, or the biggest opportunity of your life." He stopped, still apparently wrestling with the idea in his brain. Hermione was in terrible suspense, almost wanting to demand that he tell her. "I'm offering you an apprenticeship." He said simply. He looked relieved and irritated at the same time.

Hermione sat there a few moments absolutely dumbstruck at the idea. "Miss Granger?" Snape said, breaking her out of her reverie. She then realized what an amazing opportunity it was. She had never heard of anyone studying under Snape, and he was one of the most highly respected Potion Masters in Europe. She took a moment to register that, yes, it would be unpleasant to have Snape as a teacher for however long the apprenticeship was, but it would probably be worth it in the end. It would also give her time to figure out her career path.

"Yes, yes, of course I accept. This is such an honor sir. Thank you!" If he was anyone else, she would've hugged him.

He smirked unpleasantly. "Don't thank me quite yet Miss Granger. You will be dealing with me for a minimum of 2 years, and a maximum of 5. You'll be working with me practically every day, and I'm sure you know by now that I'm not as soft as other teachers are."

Hermione didn't care about any of that right now. Right now she was hopelessly, blissfully, happy. But there was one thing nagging her brain. "Sir, I was just wondering, who else have you apprenticed in the past? I haven't heard of anyone apprenticed recently, so I was just curious."

Snape rolled his eyes. The endless curiosity with this girl! He already doubted the wisdom of offering her an apprenticeship. "Only one other and that one ended after only 2 weeks."

Snape stood up, and Hermione followed suit. "Since it is growing late, we will discuss the technicalities tomorrow morning at 10:00, sharp."

Hermione gathered her things up, and walked toward the door. She stopped in the doorway, and turned back to the Professor. "Sir?" she called.

Snape turned away from where he had already resumed work on his cauldrons. "Miss Granger, I will immediately revoke your apprenticeship if you continue asking questions tonight after this one." Hermione was undeterred.

"I just wanted to thank you sir." Snape arched an eyebrow.

"I believe you already had Miss Granger." He drawled.

"Not just for the apprenticeship, but for making me laugh." Snape was surprised at this statement. Hermione saw the eyebrow go a little higher, and hurried to explain.

"Since my parent's deaths, I haven't laughed. Thank you for reminding me that I still could." She turned and left then, leaving behind a bewildered Snape.


	6. Reminiscing

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or anyone who appears in his books._

_To all my reviewers: Your e-mails make my day, so every time I'm feeling down, I just read them, and I feel tons better. Princess of the Snakes, you've made my whole month of July! I can't tell you how much I appreciate that. Ragamuffin Sundrop: Thanks for liking my explanation of Hermione's shirt! I actually have that shirt; it's the shirt I normally wear when I'm writing, so I wanted to work it in there. Oh, and anyone feel free to tell me if I start making Snape too nice! That's my biggest fear, since I don't have Snape's amazing wit, so be sure to tell me! This is one of those in between, kind of boring chapters, but it had to be written. I'll update soon though with an interesting one._

Hermione entered Snape's office the next day, and the negotiations were long and drawn out. Let's just skip to the final agreement. Hermione's apprenticeship would last 2 years. At the end of the 2 years, only if both parties were willing to add a few more years to the apprenticeship, would they lengthen it. Hermione would live at Snape's house, at Spinner's End, as was customary for apprentices. She wouldn't pay for her room or board, but she would have to perform all housework Snape didn't want to deal with. This was also customary for apprentices, or else Hermione would've never agreed to it, saying he was just being sexist. When Snape returned as Potion's Master to Hogwarts, Hermione would accompany him. After a few months of his lessons, she might possibly take over a few of the classes of first years and second years. Lessons with Snape would be every day, except for one weekend a month. After signing the contract, there would be no renegotiation until Hermione's 2 year apprenticeship ran out. Hermione would move to Snape's house the day after Harry and Ginny's wedding, which Snape was invited to, but he would probably not attend.

We resume our story at Harry and Ginny's wedding, one week later. We won't go into the ceremony, as I'm not sure how wizard weddings are performed.

Hermione sat at the main wedding groups table, as she was Ginny's maid of honor. She watched as Harry and Ginny had their first dance as the Potters. Fred stepped next to her, and asked if she'd like to dance. She smiled, and took the offered hand. Everyone clapped as they stepped onto the floor. She saw many people giving each other nudges and winks. She rolled her eyes. Fred and Hermione sounded good on paper, the best friend of the groom, and the brother of the bride, but Hermione just couldn't handle Fred's mischievousness. George cut in just then, and Hermione had a nice time dancing the evening away with all the Weasley brothers.

Hermione sat down at the table gratefully. The wedding reception was starting to wind down, and Mrs. Weasley sat down next to Hermione. She smiled at Mrs. Weasley. Mrs. Weasley waved her hand, trying to cool her rather red face.

"Feels wonderful to sit down for a bit doesn't it?" Mrs. Weasley huffed.

"Yes it does. You've been rather busy, so if you want me to grab you anything, I'll be more than happy to." Hermione said with a smile.

"No, no dear, I'm just fine. How is everything for you lately?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

Hermione gave a small sad smile. "I'm doing much better. But I still feel like someone's missing." She cast a rather wistful glance at the line of Weasley brothers, as if hoping that Ron had just stepped out for a moment. Mrs. Weasley noticed her gaze, and tears welled up in her eyes.

"I feel just the same dear." She pulled out a handkerchief, dabbing at her eyes.

"I'm so sorry I brought that up. This is supposed to be a happy day." Hermione said. She could feel the guilt crushing her happiness. Mrs. Weasley gave her a smile.

"Dear, I was luckier than you were during the War. You didn't just lose Ron. You lost your parents too. So don't you dare be sorry, especially on such a joyous occasion." Mrs. Weasley sniffed, and smiled. "So, have you decided on what job you're going to take yet? You know you can do anything you want." Hermione nodded.

"I know, it's just I don't know what I want yet. However, the most surprising thing happened last week." Mrs. Weasley glared at Hermione for keeping her in suspense.

"And what was that dear?" She asked. Hermione said slowly and incredulously, as if even she couldn't believe what she was saying. "Professor Snape offered me an apprenticeship." Mrs. Weasley gasped in surprise. Hermione heard a few other small gasps from down the table, as it appeared the entire Weasley family had been listening in.

"Well, did you accept?" Mrs. Weasley asked, still in shock.

"Of course I did. I still don't know what I'm doing with my life, and this is such a rare opportunity, how crazy would I have been to turn it down?"

"Yeah, but, you'll be stuck with _Snape_." Fred interjected.

"And won't you have to live with him?" asked Mr. Weasley.

"And I have to perform all the housework." Hermione groaned. "But he's paying for my room and board, so I can't complain." She hastily added.

"Well, of course you can complain. This is Snape we're talking about. I wouldn't want to see him first thing in the morning." George said, shuddering.

"By the way, wasn't he invited to the wedding?" Hermione said, trying to change the subject.

"Yeah, but you know Snape. He is the hater of all happiness, especially Harry's." Fred said. Just then, Harry and Ginny stepped over, holding hands.

"We're leaving for the honeymoon in a few minutes. So if you guys want to tie tin cans onto the getaway car, now's your chance." Harry said with a grin. Everyone looked at Harry a little strangely, but Hermione understood.

"It's an old Muggle tradition at weddings." She clarified.

"Well, I for one would love to bring something Muggle into this wedding, don't you agree Molly?" Mr. Weasley said excitedly.

"I wouldn't mind ordinarily, but it seems like a very silly tradition to me." Mrs. Weasley said wrinkling her nose.

"No, no, it's alright. I never liked it much either." Said Harry hurriedly.

"Hey Harry, did you know that Hermione's got an apprenticeship, with that old bat Snape?" George called. Harry looked positively shocked.

"Why on earth would he offer you an apprenticeship? He hates you." Ginny asked, since Harry seemed to be incapacitated.

"I've no clue either, but we've both signed a contract and everything. There's no turning back now. I'm moving into his house tomorrow in fact." Hermione answered. That one woke Harry up.

"Why would you go live with him?" Harry asked angrily.

"Harry, relax. He's going to be giving me lessons every day, so it's much more convenient for me to live in his house. Besides, it's not like its unusual or anything. Most apprentices live in their masters homes, isn't that right Mrs. Weasley?" She turned to Mrs. Weasley for support.

"It's true Harry." Mrs. Weasley sighed regretfully. Hermione stood up, and stood next to an angry Harry. She rubbed his shoulder, trying to give him some reassurance.

"Harry, don't worry about me. This is your wedding, and soon to be your honeymoon! Don't let me spoil it for you." He seemed to relax a little, and he smiled at her, but he still looked rather worried. "I bet you 50 galleons I can make it for at least 2 months." She said, trying to cheer him up.

He grinned, and said. "I won't take you up on that one. If anyone could ever stand that greasy old bat, it's you. Especially if he's got books at his house." Hermione laughed.

"Well, it certainly couldn't hurt." She conceded. Everyone laughed with Hermione, and she felt a great weight lift off her shoulders. She had been dreading telling Harry for a whole week, and it'd gone much better than she hoped.

Hermione waved as the getaway car drove off, wiping her eyes. She took a deep breath, and prepared to Apparate. She had some last minute packing to do.

_Please review! P.S. Points to whoever finds out what bands songs I name my chapters, and my title after!_


	7. She's Leaving Home

_Yeah, this is J.K. Rowling wasting her time writing fan fiction. Especially HGSS, because she didn't write anvil sized hints for RWHG in almost all the books. I'm totally getting money from this. Not. If I owned Harry Potter I would've written HPDH very differently, especially regarding the whole Snape dying part. I mean, I know she couldn't very well have an HGSS relationship after being such a RWHG shipper, but couldn't she at least have let him live and be happy? Was that so much to ask after he had such a crappy life? Ah well, at least we can fantasize in fan fiction._

_The Bookworm_

A small pop heralded Hermione's arrival outside the Hogshead, laden down with many shrunken bags and shivering in the cool breeze. It was dark and the moon was only a sliver tonight. Snape wasn't there, and Hermione's bags were growing heavy. Even though her library was the size of a baby watermelon, it still weighed the same as a whole library. She was glad to have Crookshanks with her, who even though he was in his carrier gave her moral support at least.

"Miss Granger." She heard in the voice that drove icicles of fear into Snape's student's hearts. She tried to whirl around, but her bags slowed her down. It was more a slow turn. There was Snape with the smallest smirk on his face, which for him was the equivalent of a Cheshire cat grin. Hermione had always hated Alice in Wonderland.

If he had been Harry she would've scolded him in heart beat, but alas for the respect that is due Professors, especially one you're going to be living with for the next 2 years.

"Good evening Professor, I thought you weren't here yet." She tried to keep her voice pleasant, but she couldn't prevent a drop of venom penetrating her voice. Snape's smirk grew even wider as he spoke in what she thought was a mock offended tone.

"Miss Granger there is no reason for you to take that tone with me. I'm merely keeping you alert. What if I had been a rogue Death Eater? If you had been keeping proper vigilance you would not have been startled."

Hermione had to literally bite her tongue to keep from snapping at him. Hermione had a temper, but Snape was a professor and respect always overrode any of Hermione's other feelings about a person. She took a quick breath and thought about what he'd said. It was reasonable, just like his N.E.W.T. had been. Difficult but reasonable. But she still hated that self satisfied smirk on his face.

He watched her internal struggle with a sneer, and decided he'd waited long enough.

"Come Miss Granger; take a hold of my arm so we may Apparate." She obeyed, and he turned back to her for a second. "I never agreed to the cat." She looked down at Crookshanks.

"But you never disagreed to him either sir." He nodded his head slightly.

"Fair enough." He twisted away from her and they were Apparating.

Hermione gasped for breath as she landed on the soft mud of a riverbank. She looked down at her feet. They were liberally coated in a mixture of mud and litter, while Snape's feet were firmly planted on broken concrete. Figures.

Snape jerked her away from the mud and up the riverbank, Hermione peering around her, trying to get her bearings. He rushed her through a small river-gate, and down a narrow cobbled street. There were brick houses on both sides, most of them boarded up and abandoned. She wrinkled her nose as a foul smell hit her nostrils and looked around for the source. She got a good look at the river and that was all she needed to know. The remains of an old mill was there too, which seemed to have been out of operation for several years. There was only the ancient chimney still standing erect, and it was the house that this chimney looked likely to fall on at any moment that Snape stopped and opened the door.

She entered a small sitting room, all four walls covered in books. Some people would've called the room oppressive. But to her it was like discovering a dragon's horde, with rare and out of print books everywhere. She didn't notice anything else about the room; she was far too busy browsing the shelves as Snape put the wards up. Snape broke her out of her reverie. "You'll have plenty of time to look at those later. But it's almost nine o'clock, and I keep early hours. Follow me if you want to sleep tonight, unless you like lumpy sofas." She finally ripped her eyes away and took a proper look at the room. It was covered with school year's worth of dust, the sofa did look lumpy and she hated sleeping upright in a chair. She hoped her bedroom was cleaner than this.

She expected Snape to go to the doorway at the other end of the room, but he waved his wand at the wall behind the armchair. It opened onto a small staircase, and he started up it. She followed and when they were at the very top of the staircase there was no doorway. Did he expect her to live on the stairs? But no, he was opening a trap door above them and a ladder descended just like at Divination.

She set her bags down at the bottom and followed Snape up the ladder. Snape had stuck her in the attic. He hadn't even bothered to clean it out a little. It was full of all sorts of trash, all of it covered in thick dust. Melted cauldrons, broken quills, and deflated footballs. She didn't know why the last one was there, but she didn't see a bed anywhere. Then Snape pointed it out to her underneath a pile of what appeared to be old newspapers and dirty rags. She shuddered, and reached for her wand to levitate the junk off her bed, and then perform a quick Scourgify. It wasn't there. She patted at her pockets, looked around the floor, even checked behind her ear like she was Luna Lovegood. No wand.

And then she looked up. Snape was holding her wand, inspecting it. "May I please have my wand back sir?" She asked, sticking her hand out. Maybe he was just checking to see that his new apprentice had a wand in good working order. If only!

"No, you may not." She almost ground her teeth together, a habit that her parents had spent years training out of her. She hadn't even gotten close to doing it since she was 10.

"Sir, may I ask the reason why not?" She asked in an almost sweet voice. Snape didn't even glare at her. It was a more pitying glance, as if he were saying 'How stupid are you if you think I'm that easy to manipulate?'

"You may." He stayed silent. She recognized the trick. She could ask the question, but he could choose not to answer it.

"Why can't I have my wand back?" She asked point blank, no honey or even a sir.

"Because it is my habit to confiscate the wands of my apprentices until I deem they are worthy to have the responsibility of a wand. It gives them something to strive for in their apprenticeship, and the only other way to get their wand back is to quit." She was shocked. She hadn't anticipated anything like this.

"But how am I supposed to brew if I can't use my wand? Many potions require spells cast over them."

"You'll be brewing first year potions that won't require any spells. And if you absolutely require a spell cast, you can ask me nicely and I might consider doing it." First year potions! Did he think that she was a baby! She'd brewed Polyjuice Potion in her 2nd Year and read every potion journal she could get her hands on since. She was Hermione bloody Granger, the girl who never gave 50, she didn't even give a 100, she gave 120 to every subject she ever took. (She conveniently forgot Divination during this time, but we'll have to forgive her for it. Anger causes selective memory.) She turned away as Snape went down the ladder, grinding her teeth madly to keep herself from losing her apprenticeship. Both parties had to agree to sever it, and if she did something that would cause Snape to want to get rid of her, he would make her life a living hell until she caved.

She stomped down the ladder, grabbed almost all her stuff in the first load. (Anger also causes stupidity to increase.) The ladder almost toppled, and she had to drop everything to prevent it, wincing as she did so. Thankfully nothing hit Crookshanks, but he meowed very loudly in protest. She breathed deeply for a moment or two and went back down the ladder and brought her stuff up properly. She gingerly cleaned the bed off, and then realized that she couldn't unshrink her luggage. But she let Crookshanks out of his carrier laid a clean-ish blanket on the bed and sat down, petting Crookshanks. It was nice to have an ally in the house, a friend who would look out for her.

She sat there, stewing, thinking. She had always thought that Snape was reasonable. Difficult, sarcastic, maybe even a tad bit nasty at times, but never without reason. There was probably a reason to his taking away her wand. Maybe it was to remind her what it was like to be a Muggle, and to learn to appreciate her magic properly. Maybe it was like he said, a goal to strive for. Or maybe he just truly detested her and wanted to get rid of her as soon as possible. That would be consistent if she had asked him for the apprenticeship, but he had offered it to her. She wanted to think about it more, but it was very late, and she was so tired physically and emotionally that she went straight to sleep without even realizing it.

_Oh, just when you think Snape was getting nice. (Evil laughter smothered.) He didn't even bother to clean her room out a little! That bothers me the most. You've had a long day packing, are tired of dealing with a very irritating man, and you are ready to go to bed, and what do you have to do? You have to clean rags with unknown grime on them and newspapers with mouse poop on them off the bed you will then sleep on. I had a ton of fun writing this chapter. I truly forgot how much fun it is to write fan fiction. Guys, I'm really sorry for abandoning this for almost a whole year. But my dad really doesn't like Harry Potter and every once in a while he goes on an Anti-Harry Potter rampage and I was a little wary of bringing the books out to check certain points. And then I forgot it. Yes I'm evil. Not even a good evil like Snape, a very bad evil like the Carrows. I will accept the tomatoes thrown with good grace and then go to my computer and write more. Even if you don't throw hypothetical tomatoes you still should. Anyhow. Kudos to everyone who guessed it was the Beatles! To all writers of fan fiction everywhere: Do not abandon your readers, or else the guilt and stench of tomatoes will follow you everywhere. You can insert your least favorite food in place of tomatoes and that will equal how bad I feel. I know this chapter's kind of short, but I have a load of ideas. Expect a chapter at the latest by the end of next month. _


	8. Lend Me Your Comb

HGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHG

Hermione slept horribly that night. She would have 30 minutes of sleep and then an hour of lying on her back trying to go back to sleep. When Crookshanks sat on her chest for a pet, she knew it was time to get up. "Maybe that sofa would've been more comfortable Crooks," she said while trying to get some kinks out of her back. "It could've hardly been lumpier than that mattress." Her watch said it 6:00am, and there was a window in one corner with a little light streaming in that confirmed that it was early morning.

She got up, still wearing the same clothes she had worn yesterday and went to the window. Like everything else in the attic it had a thick layer of grunge on it, so she got a rag off the floor and wiped it slightly cleaner. She could at least see through it now, although not very clearly. The sunrise looked cold, and made everything in the neighborhood look more desolate. Last night it had just been a place to avoid and fear, in the morning it became a place to pity.

Hermione pulled her small purple bag from the rest of her luggage and started rummaging around in it. This was the same bag from her quest for the Horcruxes, the one that never ran out of room. Why didn't she just use it to pack all her luggage you ask? Because although she could've fit everything in there, she couldn't lift it even though she had cast the most powerful lightening charms on it. She discovered that if she distributed the weight between several bags it was easier to charm, organize, and carry.

Hermione's face grew triumphant and her arm emerged from the bag clutching a brush. "Aha!" Some girls spend hours in front of the mirror trying to look perfect. Hermione had spent hours just trying to make her hair look less like shrubbery and more like hair. She'd got a system down however that took her 20 minutes tops, but unfortunately it required a series of small spells and Snape had taken away her wand. She stood in front of the window, trying to use it as a makeshift mirror, as she began wrangling with her hair. This morning it was being particularly stubborn. There was a rat's nest worse than usual on the side of her head that just would not come out. She bore down on it hard with the brush, but when it brought tears to her eyes she quit. She put her fingers on it to see if she could try untangling it that way, when something struck her. This rat's nest did not feel like hair. With growing horror, Hermione ripped out and brought the mangled remains of a spider to her eyes. She then did what any sensible girl would do. She screamed.

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Snape sat in the kitchen sipping his morning coffee, savoring the quiet that he knew could not last with that girl in the house. How right he was. He spilled hot coffee all over himself as he jumped at the short shriek that split the air. He drew his wand and ran up the stairs. Why had he taken her wand away? He knew that the girl loved to get into trouble, or at least attracted it. She was a prime target for Rogue Death Eaters, but he thought that the wards would've gone off. But there were some Death Eaters on the loose who were slippery enough to evade them. He reached the top of the stairs and cast a spell that enabled him to simply jump the 10 feet, which made him look like a certain Dark Lord from the Muggle movie he had seen with his mother many years ago. (Points if you can guess who that Dark Lord is, and what movie Snape saw.)

He looked around the room for invaders. No one was there except himself and that girl, and there was no sign that anyone else had been there. He cast **Homenum Revelio **just to make sure, but all was clear. He turned to Miss Granger. She was still dressed in the same clothes from yesterday, now crumpled because she'd presumably slept in them. She seemed to be under some kind of hallucination spell, for she was running her fingers through her tangled hair and then suddenly slapping at her legs and arms. "Get away, keep off!" He heard her mumble to herself. He spotted her cat cowering in the corner and felt sympathy for the creature despite his dislike of it. He decided to keep his wand out, for Miss Granger was obviously not in her right mind.

"Miss Granger," He said in the tone of voice usually reserved for approaching rabid dogs. "Are you feeling all right?" She turned to look at him with wild eyes.

"Are there any on me?" She demanded.

"Any what?" He asked cautiously.

"Bugs! Spiders, cockroaches, hornets, are there any on me?" She turned before him slowly and he humored her by looking for the imaginary bugs on her clothes.

"There are no bugs on you Miss Granger."

"What about in my hair?" She stuck her head in his direction. He honestly couldn't see much in the weak morning light, and her hair was so snarled that he doubted he could've seen an army of bugs in it.

"I don't see any bugs." He answered truthfully. She appeared to relax at the statement, but she kept making strange slapping movements at her ear and elbow. "Miss Granger, what caused you to scream?" A horrified look came over her face and then she started scratching ferociously at the back of her neck.

"I was brushing my hair this morning. And there was…" She broke off shuddering. She continued with an effort. "There was a spider in it." Snape's face immediately became scornful.

"I should've known that it was something as ridiculous as this. I never thought of you being a person prone to nerves Miss Granger, but I've been proven wrong before."

"I am not jumpy!" She cried, while scratching fiercely at her head. She noticed what she was doing and blushed slightly. "Well I'm not normally. I see a bug crawling by me I don't scream. If a fly buzzes by I'm cool as a cucumber. If I notice that said bug is crawling on me, I will jump. But if I find a spider in my hair, I think I'm allowed to scream a little." Snape rubbed his eyes resignedly, and then Hermione spoke again. "By the way, if you rub your eyes to much you can actually tear the cornea." Snape glared at her.

"Well in the future Miss Granger, can you reserve your screams for an actually life threatening situation. I value my ear drums." There was no point talking to the foolish girl anymore, so he went down to his room to change his pants.

HGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHG

Hermione looked at the bed carefully for any type of creepy crawlies and sat down. She grimaced and pulled the last remaining pieces of spider out of her hair and brush. She settled down to the business of taming her hair, looking around the room. Things can look very different in the morning, especially bad situations. They can often look much better, but this was not one of those mornings.

Hermione Granger was stuck in a room that had no order whatsoever, something that grated against her very character. She could not clean the room very easily as her wand was currently confiscated. Almost all her possessions were currently in a shrunken state and she was helpless to reverse that. She was bound by contract to live with a very unpleasant man for the next 2 years and would not have time or energy to leave the house except on 1 weekend a month.

Hermione sighed and dug into the purple purse and grabbed her change of muggle clothes. Today it was a pair of blue jeans with a sand colored shirt with a drawing of flowers growing out of books. She pulled her hair out of her eyes with the scrunchie she kept on her wrist, and went downstairs to breakfast.

She wasn't sure where the kitchen was, but she guessed it was through the doorway in the sitting room. She peeked in a door on her way down curious about the place she was now living in. It appeared to be another room full of more books, with a few empty bookshelves in a corner. Hermione's fears about her books were now at ease. She had somewhere to put her library besides the dirty floor in the attic.

She came to the secret doorway/bookshelf and wondered how she would open the door until she saw a handle in the dark corner. She pulled on it, smirking to herself about how cliché it was and walked through the sitting room to the kitchen.

The kitchen was like everything else in the house. Small, cramped, and very dusty. Snape sat with a cup of coffee and 3 newspapers before him: _The Daily Prophet_, _The Quibbler_, and _The Times. _He glanced up from _The Quibbler _and spoke to her while he read.

"Miss Granger, in the future I would prefer it if breakfast were ready at 8:00am. As you can see," He said gesturing at the clock on the wall. "It is now 8:25am. But I will forgive you as you have just moved in and are unaccustomed to a schedule." He spoke with the condescension of a sultan forgiving a slave for spilling his dinner on his boots. Hermione bristled especially at the comment about the schedule.

She stamped over to the cabinet and looked around. Snape apparently hadn't gone shopping yet for there wasn't anything in the cabinet except for a can of puréed pumpkin, and a bag of coffee beans. She went to the fridge and found nothing but an extremely old sandwich that made her cringe just looking at it. She turned back to Snape, swallowing hard to control her nausea. "Apparently sir, there is no food in the house." Snape scoffed lightly and went to look in the places she had just been. He straightened up and looked down at Hermione.

"Well Miss Granger we will do what most people generally do when they are out of food. We'll go to the store."

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Snape and Hermione stood in the middle of the Walmart baking aisle arguing over the merits of white flour over whole wheat pastry flour.

"Sir, whole wheat flour never bakes right unless the recipe is a whole wheat flour recipe. And they don't have any whole wheat flour cook books here, and I've never been good at guessing about white flour to whole wheat flour ratios."

"White flour shouldn't even be called flour after it goes through the process. It lowers the nutritional value so much."

"Well sir, I'm going to be the one doing the baking not you. So can we please just go we've been here almost 2 hours." Snape seemed to ignore her cheeky remark, but in reality he was storing it away in his memory to get back at her later for. He was too hungry to deal with her now. He grabbed the flour bag out of her hands and pushed one of the two carts to the checkout. This was rather difficult as they'd filled both carts to the brim. Shopping when you're hungry tends to empty your wallet rather quickly. Snape let Hermione deal with the money while he made the customers who were complaining behind them quiet down with a single look.

He allowed Hermione the use of her wand so she could help shrink and Apparate the groceries, but snatched it out of her hand the moment she appeared beside him. They lugged the bags into the kitchen and Hermione got down to the business of making a hot breakfast. She had to wash all the dishes and pans before she could use them so it ended up being 11:00 before they sat down to French Toast and eggs.

But it was so worth the wait. There are many degrees of goodness with French Toast, as it is very hard to make bad French Toast and the only way to do that is to burn it black. There is good French Toast, very good French Toast, and amazing French Toast. Hermione's French Toast was astronomically fantastic. The eggs were all right, but the French Toast… It was beyond words. It almost made him forgive and forget the snide little remarks she'd been making lately. Almost.

As a consequence of the amazing French Toast, Snape graciously unshrunk her belongings. He also allowed the weekend she arrived to be the weekend that she had off for the month. But as a consequence of her snide remarks, Hermione was now forced to do the unthinkable. Hermione was now dealing with the blocked up toilet in the upstairs bathroom.


End file.
